Carla Neggers - Cold Ridge

She pretended not to hear him. "Take I-95. It's an awful road, but it'll be the fastest."

"Why should I do as you say? What was that call all about? Val-"

"Goddamn it, Hank, my head's spinning. Give me a minute, okay? And get back on the road. Don't fuck with me right now. You know I can shoot."

"You won't shoot me."

"Not dead, but I can make you bleed."

He glanced at her. "And I can feed you that damn gun."

"You won't." She managed a faltering smile, even as she fought back tears. "You know I'm desperate. I'm- I'm trying to buy us some time. I don't know if this guy's on the level. If he is, great, at least he's on our side. If he's not-well, then we're screwed, anyway."

"Val, trust me. Talk to me." His voice was earnest, serious, and she remembered Manny telling her Hank Callahan was one of the coolest pilots under fire he'd ever seen. "Tell me what's going on. I can help."

"Just drive."

"Let me call the police."

"No. I can't risk it." Her head was throbbing, as if she had cobwebs growing in her skull, multiplying, squeezing her brain, so that she couldn't think. "Manny's incommunicado. Tyler's already in Cold Ridge. Eric-I talked to him a little while ago. He's in his dorm, asleep. I'm out of the loop. If I do something wrong-I couldn't live with myself."

"You're doing something wrong now."

"He-at least I think it's a he. Maybe not. Anyway, I'll get another call with more instructions when we're closer to Cold Ridge. Jesus, that's a long time."

"You're goddamn right it is."

"But you'll do it, won't you?"

Hank nodded tightly, turning onto the interstate. Traffic was heavy, endless rows of headlights and brake lights, the whoosh of passing cars and trucks, all of it adding to her confusion and anxiety. He had a thousand options, but Val suspected he wanted to buy himself some time to think, too. And he'd want to find out what was going on in Cold Ridge as much as she did.

He sighed at her with his first hint of real irritation. "Just put the fucking Glock away, will you?"

"The f-word, Hank?" She smiled faintly, not letting go of her gun. "If your constituents could hear you now."

Ty reached for the phone when it rang and answered it before he thought about where he was-in Carine's loft bed. But it was Antonia, as collected as ever despite the obvious note of concern in her voice. "Did I wake you?" she asked. "I called your place first. I thought you and Carine were staying there-never mind. Hank got your message and went over to Val's over two hours ago."

"What time is it now?"

"Almost midnight. He's not back, and I haven't heard from him."

Carine stirred, and Ty sat up. He had the inside of the bed, next to the slanted ceiling. "Did you call over there?"

"No answer. I'm trying not to overreact. Hank's cell isn't on, and I don't have Val's number." She sighed, her calm faltering. "Tyler, what the hell's going on? I know Val must be scared to death about Manny's situation. Have you talked to her?"

"Not tonight. Earlier today. The police were at her door-"

"We heard about that. They had a search warrant. Well, that's enough to frighten anyone. I've got the media here-they showed up not long after Hank left for Val's. They've made the connection between him and Manny. I think they're gone now."

Carine touched Ty's arm, and he gave her a reassuring nod, although he felt a twinge of uneasiness. Val Carrera was volatile on a good day-funny as hell when she wasn't depressed, but impulsive. And no one who knew her wanted to piss her off. "Antonia, is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know. I don't give a damn about the media, but-Hank-" She gulped in a breath, revealing some of the stress she was accustomed to keeping so carefully hidden. "He's sympathetic to Val's situation."

"We're all sympathetic, but it's late."

"I could go down to her apartment."

"Not alone."

Carine, impatient, motioned for the phone, and North handed it to her. "Antonia? What's up?" She listened a moment, then shook her head. "No, you listen to me for a change. Give Hank thirty minutes. If he doesn't get in touch with you, you don't go down to Val's. You sound the damn alarm."

Antonia called back twenty minutes later. Carine was in the kitchen making tea, debating whether or not to call Gus and get him up. Ty talked her out of it. He simply had to suggest she put on more water for tea-it put the same image in her head that he had, Gus and Stump in her cabin at one o'clock in the morning.

He could hear the relief in Antonia's voice. "Hank called. He and Val are on their way to Cold Ridge."

"They're driving up here tonight?"

"Val wants to see Eric. Hank says she's very stressed out and hanging by threads, and you know how he is. He's loyal, and he's a good guy. He also said Val's worried about Eric-you know that's all it'd take. Hank's got a soft spot where children are concerned."

Ty knew. Ten years ago, Hank had lost his first wife and three-year-old daughter in a car accident while he was serving overseas. He'd dedicated himself to his work and public service, but it had taken Antonia Winter to get him to let himself take the risk of falling in love again.

"How'd he sound?" Ty asked.

"I don't know-he's very good at concealing what he's really feeling. It's such a stressful situation." She sighed, breaking off. "I'm coming up there. I'll take the first plane I can out of here in the morning."

The kettle whistled, and Carine, frowning at him, grabbed a pot holder and filled her chipped teapot with the hot water. But she didn't snatch the phone out of his hand, and he said, "Nate's coming tomorrow, too. Maybe you two can meet up at the airport."

"That'd be good. I don't want to be a worrywart, but it's just-" Antonia faltered, a rarity for her. "Never mind. You have enough on your plate without fretting about me. Carine? You're keeping your promise?"

He smiled. "I don't know about that."

"Liar. You know damned well what you've been up to. So do I. I am a doctor-and I know you two."

"Goodbye, Antonia. Safe flight tomorrow."

He hung up. Carine unwrapped tea bags and dropped them in the hot water, their tags hanging over the sides of the teapot. Normal tea bags. But Ty could see the tension in the way she held herself. They'd pulled on their clothes, but there was no pretending what happened in the loft hadn't happened. She knew it had, and she wasn't sure she approved.

Well, who would?

But he pushed the thought out of his mind and dialed Manny's cell phone, and when he got his friend's voice mail-again-he left a pointed message. "You have Val's cell phone number? Call her. She's up to something."

With as much adrenaline as she had pumping through her, Val didn't get sleepy on the long drive north. Hank wasn't dropping off, either. He sat rigidly as he drove, as if he were on some secret military mission. She'd let him call Antonia and reassure her, although it didn't sound like she was thrilled when he told her he was on his way to Cold Ridge.

After he'd hung up with his new wife, he glared at her. "Get this straight, Val. I'm not driving you to Cold Ridge because you've got your goddamn gun. I'm driving you because I know you're frightened and feel you're out of options. So, let's just get there."

The hours ticked by. It was a dark, cloudy night, but there was no rain. Traffic eased, and when they crossed the border into New Hampshire and the sun came up, she wondered if she'd imagined the calls. Wouldn't that be nice? She'd rather be delusional than have to face the caller again.

The yellow and orange leaves had vanished, in their place, bare limbs and patches of oaks with brown-and burgundy leaves. The air was colder. She could feel it even with the heat on in the car. The sun and the blue sky were deceptive. She looked up at the looming mountains, stark against the clear sky, and saw that some of the highest peaks had snow.